


Amy Meets The Egos

by a_nonny_moose



Series: Markiplier TV AU [22]
Category: markiplier - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 09:19:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19104214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_nonny_moose/pseuds/a_nonny_moose
Summary: Amy wants to meet the egos. This will go well.





	Amy Meets The Egos

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by https://incorrectteamiplierquotes.tumblr.com/post/183439362465/kat-amy-its-us-ethan-dark-put-a-spell-on-you

“What could possibly go wrong?” Amy smoothed her hair back with a shake of her head and a laugh, looking up at Mark. “It’s not like they can  _hurt_  me.”

“You don’t understand, they  _can_ —”

Amy took his hand in two of hers as he passed her, pacing. Mark stopped dead, looking at her, sitting in a pile on the couch. She paused for a moment, trying to understand what it must have been like for him. “Look at you,” she finally murmured, a half smile lighting her face. “You went toe to toe with  _Dark_.”

“And he almost—”

“But he  _didn’t_.” Amy had a kind of burning triumph in her eyes. “You  _won_.”

Mark laughed a little at that, collapsing on the couch next to her with his hands in his hair. “You don’t understand.”

“Then make me understand.”

“We can’t just—we can’t just go see them. I’m not letting  _them_  anywhere near you.”

“Mark—”

“No!” he looked up, and Amy saw for the first time that he was crying. “No,” he said again, softer.

“You can’t protect me,” Amy whispered, laying a hand on his arm.

“Yes, I can.”

“Stopping me from meeting them isn’t protecting me.”

“Isn’t it?” Mark looked up, eyes wide. “Once they know you, they’ll use you, and they’ll—they’ll—”

“I’m not just… a vehicle for them to get you,” Amy said, simple, slow. “I want to get to know them.”

“But—”

“You said it yourself, they’re a part of you. I don’t mean—” she hurriedly added, seeing Mark staring daggers, “—they’re not tied to you, but they’re representations of you. Do you… do you know what I mean?” Amy squeezed his arm. “I want to get to know all of you.”

Mark sighed. “You’re… really dead set on this, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“And you promise you won’t be weirded out?”

“I hang out with you, don’t I?”

That got a laugh out of him. “Okay, okay.” A deep breath. “Tomorrow?”

“Absolutely.”

* * *

“How did you find them all?”

“It was Warfstache’s idea.” Mark locked the car and joined her at the office, unlocking the front door. “He wanted to do… projects. Said he could help, and he knew people—” Air quotations around the word ‘people,’ “—who could help.”

“And you just… let them in?”

Mark winced, shaking his head. The two of them padded deeper into the office, past the computers, past the makeshift living room.

A blank stretch of wall.

Mark took a deep breath. “And you’re sure you want to see this?”

“Positive.” Amy grinned at him, trying to be reassuring. “Where are they?”

“Here.” Mark gestured to the wall. Amy looked, and out of nowhere, sliding into existence, was a door.

A door that rattled and thumped, muffled voices on the other side.

“Welcome,” Mark sighed, grabbing the handle, swinging it open, “to the… Other Office.”

Amy stepped through the door, careful. The air seemed to wobble around her for a moment, and she caught a whiff of bubblegum. There was worn carpeting under her feet, and a hallway that stretched on in either direction. At one end, glass doors and a meeting table. What looked like a set of stairs, but hard to look at, police tape draped across the banister.

“Don’t, uh—” Mark tugged her arm, tearing her eyes away. “Warfstache says the second floor is still under construction. Don’t look at it too hard.”

Amy giggled, only now noticing the smoke above their heads, the sound of voices that sounded familiar, similar, echoing down the hall. “Okay. Cool. Cool.”

Mark looked at her. “You’re not scared, are you?”

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t.”

“We can go.”  _We should go._

“No, no.”  _You don’t understand._ “I want to meet them.”

“They’re usually in the living room, or kitchen, or something.” Mark led the way, and Amy looked around, just barely noticing how tight his hand was in hers. She didn’t notice how grimy the air seemed, the barely-covered bloodstains in the carpet, the knife holes in the wall. She noticed the magic that kept this place together, and she breathed it in.

“Who’s that?”

“No one should be able to come in here.”

“Unless Will’s magic is faulty—”

“Shut your mouth, Trimmer.” A head that looked very much like Mark’s poked itself out the kitchen door, looking the wrong way down the hallway.

“Will.” His head whipped around, and it was then that Mark and Amy stopped dead, seeing his knife drawn. Mark cleared his throat, and his hand clenched tight around Amy’s. “Um. Hi.”

“Well,” Will huffed, stepping into the hallway, “if it isn’t Markiplier.”

“I told you to just call me Mark,” he muttered, looking away for a moment. Amy nudged him, and Mark looked back up to see three identical heads sticking out of the kitchen doorway. “I… brought Amy. To say hi.”

“A guest?”

“A guest!”

The one in glasses and a suit was first, stumbling over himself. “Bim, Bim Trimmer. Nice to meet you--?”

“Amy.” She shook his hand, looking him up and down. “You’re Bim, huh?”

He puffed his chest, running a hand through his hair. “The one and only.”

“Uh huh. Right. Well—” the next figment pushed Bim aside, looking over Amy. This one had a lab coat and scrubs and a terribly fitted head mirror. “Miss Amy. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Finally?” Amy laughed a little, squeezing his hand. He was so… solid. “What has Mark told you about me?”

“Nothing,” Mark growled, and Amy looked over to see him locking eyes with the remaining two figments.

“I’m Dr. Iplier.” Amy brought her attention back to the man shaking her hand, seizing her up.”

“Are you a real—”

“No, he’s not.”

“Yes, I am!” He huffed, straightening his head mirror. “If you’ll  _excuse_  me, then, some of us have coffee brewing.” He stalked past the others, not entirely unfriendly, just seeming to be busier than them.

Next was a figment a little taller than  _her_  Mark, but maybe that was just the way he was holding himself, ramrod straight. He walked towards her with the whirring of joints, his eyes glowing blue. Blank, expressionless.

“Miss Nelson.”

“Google?” she guessed, looking at the logo, glowing faintly, on his shirt.

“Indeed.” Google looked through her, unblinking. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Uh, same.” Amy shook his hand a final time, and he walked after Dr. Iplier.

Amy looked to Mark, his hands stuffed in his pockets, glowering after Google. Bim stood to the side, staring at both of them, clearly besides himself. Wilford, after a grudging glance at Mark, flipped his knife closed before taking a step forward.

“The infamous Wilford Warfstache, at your service.” He bent to her hand, his mustache tickling it with the brush of a kiss.

Amy giggled, blushing, and clasped his hand. “I’ve always been a Wilford girl at heart,” she teased.

“Oh ho!” Wilford’s eyebrows disappeared into his hair, and he pulled her close, spinning her before letting her go again. “It is nice to meet someone with taste,” he huffed, smiling at her.

“Right.” Mark almost growled the word. “Well, it was nice to see you, we’ll be going now.”

“You will?”

“We will?” Amy turned to Mark, holding her hand out, but he backed away. “But—this isn’t all of them, is it?”

“This is all of the  _safe_  ones,” Mark grudged, catching her eye. Amy paused, sudden. He was  _terrified_.

“To be fair,” Wilford interjected, “I don’t think Hosty’s killed anyone this week.”

“And Dark—”

“No.” Mark’s voice broke a little, and Amy gave in.

“Okay.” She looked at Wilford and Bim, hopefully looking to her, and then at Mark, trying his best to disappear. “I’ll come back.”

Mark was silent as they walked out of the Other Office, finally slamming the door that separated their realms, his chest heaving as it melted out of reality. “Let’s not do that again.”

“I’ll take them cookies sometime.” Amy paused, looking up at him, a hand on his cheek. “You alright?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I just—” Mark shivered, throwing her off. “Google isn’t… the nicest. and neither is Will. Or Doc.”

“And Bim?”

“He’s—fine.” Mark huffed a laugh, looking up at the ceiling. “That could have gone worse.”

“See?” Amy didn’t try to take his hand again, but nudged his arm with her shoulder, turning to walk out. “I told you we’d be fine.”

“Mm—”

“Mark! Amy!”

The two of them jumped, turning to see Ethan, Kathryn, and Tyler walking towards them.

“What’re you two doing here? Alone?” Tyler reached them first, and the five of them formed a circle.

“That’s a better question for the three of you,” Mark shot back, his chest starting to loosen. Safety in numbers, comfort in friends.

“Editing,” Ethan and Kathryn said, in deadpan unison, sharing a glance.

Amy crossed her arms. “Then why is Tyler here?”

Tyler looked at Ethan and Kathryn, then turned to Mark. “We had… a feeling.”

Amy felt, rather than saw, the door behind her and Mark manifest. A hand on her wrist.

Mark’s ears perked up, looking around at the three of them. “A… feeling?”

Ethan swatted Tyler’s arm, but Kathryn sighed. “A feeling. Like someone was in danger at the office.

“Amy and I were here, to see the egos, but we—we were just—leaving—” Mark whipped around, only to find an empty space where Amy had stood.

“She was just here—”

“Mark, what’s that door?”

“Mark?”

Mark threw the door open, not bothering to close it behind him. He ran, down the hall, his hand clipping through one of the stair banisters with a jolt of electricity.

“Mark?!”

Kathryn was the first one after him, stepping into the Other Office with bated breath. “This is where the egos live,” she whispered, looking at the stairs, then down the hall. Ethan, then Tyler, piled in after her, looking around.

“Woah.”

“There he is.” Tyler started to hurry towards Mark, who’d skidded into the kitchen. The others followed behind him, just short of running. “Mark, it’s okay, I’m sure Amy’s just—”

“No!” Mark blocked the kitchen door as all three of them tried to enter, panting. “Get out, get OUT!”

Ethan took two steps back, jumping. “Wh—Mark, it’s okay—”

“It’s  _fine_ ,” Mark growled, and the three of them took a second to notice that his skin was starting to turn ashen. “None of you—none of you can stay here.”

“But—”

“I’m going to find Amy, and no one else ever has to come to this half of the office again.”

Kathryn pushed Mark out of the doorway, walking into the kitchen. She pulled Ethan, then Tyler, after her, and ushered them into chairs at the dining table.

Mark sputtered, watching her, his hands limp at his sides. “You can’t—wait—”

Kathryn sat down with a mug of coffee in front of her, gesturing to the last seat at the table. “What’s going on, Mark?”

Mark collapsed into the chair, staring blankly at the table. “I didn’t want to introduce her to them.”

“But?” Ethan looked around, his leg jumping.

“But Amy’s the most stubborn person I know.” Kathryn took a sip of Dr. Iplier’s lukewarm coffee and made a face. “Besides, maybe, you,” she added, gesturing to Tyler.

Tyler shook his head, looking seriously at Mark. “This is where the egos live, isn’t it?”

Mark nodded.

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

Mark opened, then closed his mouth, fishing for words.

“That doesn’t matter now,” Kathryn hushed, looking at Ethan. “What matters now is that Amy’s in trouble, yeah?”

Mark’s fists clenched. “Yeah, and we need to—” he stood, starting to pace again, “—we can’t just sit here, we have to—”

“Mark.” Tyler stood, catching him by the wrist. “You have to focus, and then we can work together, okay?”

“But you’re—you’re not safe here, either.” Mark pulled his arm away, matching Tyler inch for inch.

“Like we care.” Ethan stood too, folding his arms. “We’re here to help.”

“But—”

“You’re not doing this alone, idiot.” Kathryn drained her mug, setting it down with a clunk. She sat, looking up at all of them. “Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

“Agreed.”

Mark was silent, and Tyler nudged his shoulder. “Agreed,” he mumbled, not defeat, but hope.

“I can’t believe you’re all so  _stupid._ ” The lights in the kitchen flickered and went out.

“Who—”

“Dark.”

A light flicked on in the hallway, and the four humans scrambled towards it.

Mark got there first, stumbling over himself, holding the others behind him. The living room, a perfect mirror of the one in the real office, was shrouded in Dark’s aura. In the center—

“Amy!” Mark lunged forward, but this time, it was Tyler holding him back.

“That’s not Amy,” he muttered, low, dark.  

“Amy—” Mark yelled again, his voice breaking.

She turned to face them, a slow smile on her face.

“Dark.”

“Who, me?” Amy’s mouth moved, but it was Dark’s voice, echoing, a ringing starting to pierce the air.

“This is what I was afraid of,” Mark started, breaking. He shoved Tyler off of him, starting to walk towards Amy. “But I know Dark better than anyone.” He reached out, about to grab hold of Amy’s hand. “And I know Amy—better than anyone.” A smile touched Mark’s face, and he started to brush Amy’s hair out of her face.

Amy flicked her wrist, and Mark crumpled into a heap at her feet.

The other three ran up, only stopping when Dark manifested directly behind Amy.

“Amy, it’s us!” Kathryn reached for her, pausing as she saw Dark smiling at her.

“Dark put a spell on you, Amy!” Ethan pulled Kathryn back half a step, his voice breaking.

Dark chuckled, his aura slowly starting to envelop the room, obscuring the walls. “You got that right,” he murmured, his eyes flicking to black. He reached for Amy, drawing her easily to his chest. Amy looked up at him with a soft smirk, almost human, almost normal. As if he were Mark. “And the spell is unbreakable.”

Mark was silent.

Ethan took a step forward, Dark’s aura catching at his form. Tyler made to pull him back, but Ethan was faster. “In that case,” he shouted into the wind, “we’re going to have to make you undo it!”

“I’m sorry,” Dark said, slow, almost sing-song, “but I think darkness suits your friend rather well.”

A blink, and they were gone.


End file.
